The Vampire & Her Witch

For several minutes, no one said a word as the assembled witches and sorcerers examined the work of deadly airt that Ignatious laid before them. In the silence, Nyrielle stood up from her chair, retreating to the corner of the room to put more distance between herself and the uncomfortable artifact. Even taking a few steps away helped to relieve the growing sense of unease that crept along her skin when the former inquisitor opened the case that held it, but she wouldn’t feel comfortable until the blade had been taken away and secured far from her presence once more.

”What,” Erkembalt said at last, licking his lips when he realized that his mouth was hanging open and had been long enough for it to begin to go dry. ”What happens if someone who isn’t one of the ’faithful’ touches it?” When he asked, his hands twitched with an eagerness that he hadn’t felt in some time but that eagerness was balanced by an abundance of caution. Any relic as powerful as what this vampire described was certain to be dangerous, perhaps even deadly to people who weren’t meant to tamper with it.

”Holding it will do nothing,” Ignatious reassured the artificer. A slight smile of amusement tugged at his lips as he watched Erkembalt’s bushy tail swishing in excitement even if he tried to maintain a scholarly demeanor. ”If you attempt to wield it, it will burn your hand. If you attempt to attack one of the faithful with it, expect to be reduced to ash before the blade’s edge can so much as scratch the person you attacked.”

”Hmm, then it should be safe to handle,” the artificer said, fishing in the bulging pockets of his vest to pull out his multi-lensed eyepiece. Securing it firmly in place, he walked halfway around the table, leaning over the blade without touching it as he brought his extraordinary senses to bear on the weapon.

”In the name of the Sovereign of Stars, reveal your nature to me,” he murmured, holding his paws out over the blade and releasing a misty, silver aura that drifted through the air over the blade. The mist swirled and danced before it slowly gathered in an elaborate pattern of lines and circles that ran from the sun-shaped pommel all the way to the blade’s slender point.

”Bless his passage through the sky and his dance among the stars,” Ignatious whispered when he saw the pattern revealed in the air above the blade.

”May he light our way through darkness, and lead us to the heavenly shores,” Ashlynn finished from across the table. For a moment, her eyes met Ignatious’s startled gaze and she gave the vampire an awkward shrug. ”Would you believe me if I said that I have a distant cousin who is a Confessor? My parents hid me from the Church but they never hid the Church from me.”

”Then, you still believe?” Ignatious asked hesitantly. Ever since Nyrielle had told him of her human Seneschal, he’d longed for a chance to meet with her. Zedya, for all of their similarities as humans who became vampires, had never been among the faithful and the only other human vampire he’d met was Thane... It was just that, at the time, Ignatious was too filled with rage at what Nyrielle had done to him to ever consider discussing his circumstances with someone who might truly understand.

”I don’t know,” Ashlynn said honestly. ”I want to. Some of it at least. I want to believe that there is something greater than us in this world, and that there is a place for everyone who is worthy to find eternal rest on the Heavenly Shores.”

”Is that what you think this is?” Erkembalt interrupted, furrowing his bushy brows and pointing at the pattern of lines and circles hovering above the blade. ”Is this some superstition? A map to your afterlife?”

”That’s not a map to the Heavenly Shores,” Ignatious said with a light laugh. ”It’s a map of the sun’s path across the heavens. If you mark the sun’s position in the sky at the same time every day, it will form a pattern like the number eight. This arrangement of circles,” he added, pointing to a cluster of silvery motes of light hanging above the blade.

”This describes the arc of the sun at high summer, when the sun’s heat is the most intense,” Ignatious explained. ”If this was a Holy Light Blade, perhaps it would be marked with a different arrangement,” he said, fetching a slate and piece of chalk to sketch a similar arrangement of circles. ”This is the map for the sun at the five longest days of the year, when the sun is brightest and the nights are shortest.”

”You see, old friend?” Aspakos said, placing a hand on Erkembalt’s shoulder. ”I told you. We share a common root with these humans. Perhaps you could even wield this blade yourself. That is, if you still have faith in the Sovereign of the Stars.”

”Bah,” Erkembalt snorted, waving his hand to dismiss the glowing motes of silvery light. He’d seen as much as the spell would reveal and the conversation was moving uncomfortably close to superstition, faith and nonsense. ”You worship the Soverign. I only apply his knowledge, and that knowledge is enough to tell me that breaking the restrictions on this blade won’t be easy. But I doubt you need to. This blade isn’t bound to faith at all.”

”Explain,” Nyrielle said sharply from her shadowed corner of the room. ”I’ve seen these weapons in the hands of the faithful and I’ve seen men try to fight with them when the Templar carrying it falls. Ignatious has told me that the Church tests the faith of their Templars with these blades and those who waver in their faith cannot draw out the blade’s flames.”

All around the table, everyone’s eyes gathered on expectantly Erkembalt. Ashlynn had grown up on stories written about the most pious knights and templars, paragons of faith who underwent a divine awakening when they passed the trails of faith to wield one of these weapons, now, the artificer claimed that faith wasn’t required at all?

If not for personally witnessing the skill of his craft with Heila’s blade, she might not have been willing to hear what he had to say, but after seeing first hand how skilled was, she couldn’t help but extend a measure of trust to Erkembalt.

”These weapons are legendary among my people,” Ashlynn said slowly. ”They are seen as one of the most undeniable forms of proving the strength of a person’s faith. For you to say that they aren’t bound by faith,” she said, her voice growing sharp. ”Can you prove your words to us?”